Chapter 4 - THE SYRINGE ON THE DESK .
For three seconds, no one moved
Julian stood behind the burgundy curtain.
Cole remained beside him with one hand near his weapon.
Bianca stared directly at the fabric.
The syringe rested between her fingers.
Vincent Hale slowly turned toward the window.
He did not look frightened.
He looked calculating.
“Come out, Julian,” Bianca said.
Her voice was calm.
Almost tender.
“There is no reason to make this uglier than it already is.”
Julian stepped from behind the curtain.
Cole came out beside him.
Bianca’s expression changed when she saw the detective.
Only slightly.
Her smile disappeared.
Hale’s hand moved toward the inside of his coat.
Cole drew his weapon.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”
Hale stopped.
“You are trespassing in a private residence, Detective.”
Cole almost laughed.
“This is Julian’s residence.”
“And that syringe in your daughter’s hand is going to make the paperwork very easy.”
Bianca looked at Julian.
“You heard us.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
Her eyes moved across his face.
Julian could almost see her searching for the man she had controlled.
The man who believed every gentle lie.
The man who defended her whenever Martha expressed doubt.
That man was gone.
Bianca lowered the syringe.
“Julian, this is not what it looks like.”
Cole stared at her.
“You were holding a syringe and discussing how to stop his heart.”
Bianca ignored him.
Her eyes stayed on Julian.
“My father forced me into this.”
Hale turned sharply.
“Bianca.”
She did not look at him.
“He found me when I was twenty.”
“He told me you were responsible for everything that happened to our family.”
Julian’s voice was cold.
“What family?”
“My mother.”
Bianca’s lips trembled.
“She died with nothing.”
“She worked until she became sick.”
“Your father knew about me.”
“He knew I existed.”
“He could have helped us.”
Julian glanced toward the frozen video on the laptop.
“My father believed your father planned to use you.”
Bianca’s expression hardened.
“He always saw people as pieces on a board.”
“So does Vincent.”
“That does not make you innocent.”
“I never said I was innocent.”
Bianca’s voice cracked.
“But I did love you.”
Julian felt something twist inside his chest.
Not love.
Not anymore.
Only the memory of it.
“You drugged my mother.”
“I was supposed to make her appear confused.”
“You pushed her into the pool.”
“She found the files.”
“She said she would tell you everything.”
“So you tried to kill her.”
Bianca took one step forward.
“I panicked.”
Cole raised the weapon slightly.
“Stay where you are.”
Bianca stopped.
Julian stared at her.
“You crouched beside that pool and told her she would not live long enough to complain after our wedding.”
Bianca’s face went still.
She had not expected him to repeat the words.
She had not expected him to have heard the entire confession.
Julian continued.
“You smiled while she begged for help.”
“You watched her drown.”
“I was angry.”
“You were calm.”
“You enjoyed it.”
“No.”
“You enjoyed having power over someone who could barely keep her head above water.”
Bianca’s eyes filled with tears.
This time, Julian could not tell whether they were real.
That was the worst part.
Even now, part of him still searched for truth inside her performance.
Hale stepped closer to the desk.
Cole noticed.
“I said don’t move.”
Hale lifted his hands.
“You misunderstand the situation.”
“I have spent forty years keeping Rossi International alive.”
“You stole from it,” Julian said.
Hale’s eyes sharpened.
“Your father nearly destroyed the company with his pride.”
“I redirected funds temporarily.”
“Six hundred million dollars is not temporary.”
“It was invested.”
“It was lost.”
The silence in the red room deepened.
Julian watched Hale’s face.
“You lost it.”
Hale did not answer.
Julian understood.
“That is why you need my company.”
“The pension money is gone.”
“You need access to new accounts before auditors discover the hole.”
Hale’s jaw tightened.
“The company owes me.”
“My father trusted you.”
“Your father treated me like an employee.”
“You were his attorney.”
“I built half of what he owned.”
“And you murdered him.”
Hale smiled.
It was the first honest expression Julian had ever seen on his face.
Not guilt.
Not regret.
Contempt.
“Alexander was dying before I touched the whiskey.”
Julian moved toward him.
Cole extended an arm.
“Julian.”
Hale continued.
“His heart was weak.”
“The substance only accelerated what nature had already decided.”
Julian wanted to hit him.
He wanted to wrap both hands around the man’s throat.
But he saw what Hale wanted.
Anger.
Chaos.
A mistake that could later be used against him.
Julian forced himself to remain still.
“You recorded that?” he asked Cole.
Cole nodded toward a small device clipped inside his jacket.
“Every word.”
For the first time, Hale’s confidence broke.
His gaze shifted toward the door.
Bianca noticed.
She stepped backward.
The syringe remained in her hand.
“Put it down,” Cole ordered.
Bianca looked at Julian.
“Tell him to lower the gun.”
“No.”
“I can explain.”
“You have been explaining for three years.”
“Every explanation was a lie.”
“Not everything.”
She touched the small gold pendant at her neck.
“You gave me this in Paris.”
“I remember.”
“You said it meant I was no longer alone.”
Julian’s voice softened despite himself.
“I meant it.”
Bianca swallowed.
“So did I.”
Hale suddenly grabbed the brass statue from the floor.
Cole swung toward him.
At the same moment, Bianca threw the syringe.
It struck the lamp.
Glass shattered.
The room went dark.
Hale lunged.
Cole fired once.
The gunshot exploded through the room.
Julian dropped behind the desk.
A body crashed into the wall.
Bianca screamed.
Footsteps rushed toward the hallway.
Julian reached across the desk and grabbed the lamp cord.
He pulled himself up.
Moonlight entered through the open window.
Cole was on the floor.
Hale had both hands around his gun wrist.
Julian slammed into Hale from the side.
The older man fell against the shelves.
Boxes of medication crashed down around them.
Cole regained control of the weapon.
“Don’t move!”
Hale rolled onto his back.
Blood spread across the sleeve of his coat.
The bullet had grazed his upper arm.
Bianca was gone.
Julian ran into the hallway.
The service door stood open.
Cold air rushed inside.
He heard an engine starting.
He crossed the courtyard.
Bianca’s black sedan reversed violently from behind the west wing.
Julian jumped aside.
The car missed him by inches.
Its rear tire crushed the roses that had fallen from his bouquet.
The sedan sped toward the open gate.
Cole reached the courtyard behind him.
“Let her go.”
“She took evidence.”
“She also took the syringe.”
Julian stared after the disappearing taillights.
“She may know where my mother is.”
Police sirens approached from beyond the estate.
Cole had called for backup before entering the red room.
Hale stumbled into the courtyard.
His injured arm hung at his side.
Two officers rushed through the entrance and forced him to the ground.
Julian turned back toward the mansion.
His phone still showed no signal.
One of the officers handed him a radio.
“Hospital security is trying to reach Detective Cole.”
Cole took it.
“This is Cole.”
A dispatcher’s voice answered.
“St. Catherine’s reports Martha Rossi was removed from her room by a woman wearing nursing scrubs.”
“Security footage shows the suspect leaving through the laundry entrance.”
Julian stepped closer.
“Description?”
Cole repeated the question.
The answer came through static.
“Female.”
“Approximately sixty years old.”
“Gray hair.”
“Five foot six.”
“Hospital staff initially believed she was a private nurse.”
“The suspect used identification under the name Evelyn Hart.”
Julian frowned.
He had never heard the name.
Then the dispatcher continued.
“The hospital found the identification in the stairwell.”
“It was false.”
“There is another issue.”
Cole looked at Julian.
“What issue?”
“The woman did not force Martha Rossi to leave.”
“Martha appears to have recognized her.”
“Security video shows them embracing.”
Julian stared at the radio.
His mother had known the woman who took her.
Hale laughed from the ground.
A police officer tightened the handcuffs.
“What is funny?” Julian demanded.
Hale looked up at him.
“You still think Bianca is the most dangerous person in this story.”
Julian crouched beside him.
“Who took my mother?”
Hale smiled through the pain.
“Ask your father’s widow.”
Julian’s face tightened.
“My mother is my father’s widow.”
Hale shook his head.
“No.”
“Martha was his second wife.”
Julian felt the air disappear from his lungs.
“My father was never married before her.”
“That is what he told you.”
Hale leaned closer.
“Evelyn Hart was Alexander Rossi’s first wife.”
“And according to the documents your father buried in this room...”
“She never signed the divorce papers.”
Julian stared at him.
Hale’s smile widened.
“If that marriage was never legally dissolved, Martha was never legally married to your father.”
Cole looked toward the red room.
“Then Julian’s inheritance could be challenged.”
“Not only challenged,” Hale said.
“Destroyed.”
Julian grabbed the front of Hale’s coat.
“You used Bianca to attack my mother while someone else prepared an inheritance claim.”
Hale’s expression showed genuine amusement.
“You still do not understand.”
“Evelyn did not take Martha to hurt her.”
“She took her because Martha asked for help.”
Julian released him.
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
Hale looked toward the open gate.
“When you discover what Martha has hidden from you for thirty-four years.”
Julian’s phone suddenly regained service.
Dozens of missed calls appeared.
One message came from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph.
Martha sat inside the back seat of an unfamiliar vehicle.
A gray-haired woman sat beside her.
Martha was alive.
She was wrapped in a hospital blanket.
She looked terrified.
Beneath the photograph was a single sentence.
DO NOT TRUST DETECTIVE COLE.
Julian slowly lifted his eyes.
Cole was standing five feet away.
May you like
The message continued.
HE WAS AT THE MANSION THE NIGHT YOUR FATHER DIED.
